The Tale of the Canadian Vampire
by MadcapRaincloud
Summary: Matthew was born a premature infant who was abandoned by his parents due to their low income. He spends his childhood and teen years in the hospital but everything changes when a French vampire enters his room one night. Matthew's world is turned upside down and he feels himself falling in love with the vampire named Francis. Will Matthew finally know what it's like to be loved?
1. Meeting Francis Bonnefoy

((Hey, guys! I had to delete the first chapter because it posted twice for some reason. So here's a new version where the story isn't posted twice! Thanks for understanding!))

The Tale of the Canadian Vampire

A loud, shaky cough was expelled from the small mouth of a young Canadian boy, rousing him from his slumber. The form slowly sat up in the hospital bed, looking around groggily as the lace of sunlight peered through the old, rugged curtains.

Quiet footsteps could be heard from the hallway, and soon enough, the door to his room slowly opened, revealing one of the nurses he had grown to call mother over the years.

"How are you feeling, Matthew?" came the simple reply from the elder woman as she gracefully strode into his hospital room, pulling up a chair beside his bed.

A soft, cool hand pressed against the warmth radiating off of his forehead and soon enough, he felt soft, plump lips press against his cheek, which made him beam a large smile along with a small laugh at the feeling of it.

"I'm feeling a lot better today," Matthew replied.

The Canadian was born prematurely, which would cause a lot of problems for him in the near future. Knowing this, his parents abandoned him in his time of need, not wanting the hospital bills to rack up over time; there was no point in keeping something if it just had a couple months to live. So, the tiny infant stayed in the hospital, simply waiting for his time to come when his eyes slipped closed and he never woke up again.

The doctors were astounded when the tiny infant survived the first year, and soon enough, he was growing up just like all the others. There was one little problem though, the Canadian had trouble breathing due to premature lungs. They had not grown fully and that was a large setback for him.

Often oxygen tubes would go up his nose to help him breathe easier, helping him to relax and calm his nerves. When he grew old enough to learn what was happening, he had to quickly learn to accept it and learn that he would most likely be in the hospital for the rest of his life.

The doctors didn't want to risk sending Matthew to an orphanage, because he would have to be watched twenty four seven by a nurse to make sure he was breathing correctly.

Matthew was definitely shy when it came to meeting people he didn't know because he had been kept inside the hospital, away from any other harm.

As the years ticked on, the young boy turned into a young man, around the age of twenty. He had wavy, long, blonde locks and bright lilac eyes, which a lot of people found concerning but he didn't care. His lilac eyes made him different and unique and he had grown to really like that about himself.

He was moved from the children's hospital and was now able to stay in a tiny apartment that was often visited by a caretaker to see how the Canadian was holding up.

Matthew had no need for the oxygen tubes anymore since his lungs had developed into the correct size for lungs to be. He was homeschooled by a retired teacher who had to be at least seventy. She was kind, caring, and would always praise him if he got an answer correct.

For now, as the night fell over the town he lived in, the lights in his apartment flicked off as he stumbled to bed in a sleepy daze. Falling onto the soft mattress below, a long, pale arm reached down to tug the blankets over his cotton pajamas. Violet eyes fell shut and soon enough, a hush fell over the town.

A small creak sounded on the wooden floors of his home but the Canadian did not stir at the sound. A figure appeared in the doorway, casting a darker shadow across the sleeping man. Pearly white teeth gleamed in the darkness as the figure strode across the ground, walking over to the bed. The figure paused when they heard an incoherent mumble come from Matthew and a small chuckle escaped their mouth.

Ever so slowly, they leaned down, their pale fingers tracing down the sleeping face of the Canadian. They moved his hair away from his eyes and gently, they pushed his chin up, revealing his neck.

Carefully, the figure bent down and they opened their mouth wide, letting the sharp fangs poke at the warm skin. As soon as the figure bit down into the neck, Matthew's eyes snapped open.

Matthew had been having a peaceful sleep, dreaming about having a family that loved and cared for him. He was in the middle of a warm embrace by someone he called his father before pain shot through his body, ripping him from his slumber.

His brain couldn't process what was happening, only the feeling of pain and suffering was washing over him. He could feel the warmth of his blood exiting out of his neck but he didn't dare make any move to look at what was happening.

No sound escaped him and he did not struggle as the scent of metallic blood filled the air. His stomach began to churn and his mind was spinning, making him feel sick. As he began working up enough courage, his eyes darted down to see a blackened figure standing beside him.

His whole body tensed and before he could stop it, a loud whimper escaped his throat. A cool finger was suddenly pressed against his lips and his breath hitched. His body began to feel weak from the lack of blood, feeling like nothing was left inside of him. Was this how he was going to die?

"Shh, do not be afraid," a voice suddenly said, making him snap out of the panicked thoughts he was having. "I will not kill you and you will not die, but I will come again. Do not tell anyone about this," the voice cooed.

All too soon, the finger left his lips and when he looked down again, the man beside him was gone. His heart was pounding in his chest yet he laid still, not having any energy to move. Instead, he trusted the figure's words and he laid awake the rest of the night, the pain still coursing through his body.

In the morning, the nurse found him exactly how he had staid the rest of the night. There were two puncture wounds on his neck, but no one would notice that. His face was sickly pale and he had little blood left inside of him.

The ambulance was called and he was transported to the nearest hospital for treatment. His body was pumped full of blood once again and he was given doses of medication to try and help him recover.

Matthew wouldn't tell a soul about what had happened, since he didn't know what had happened himself. It had happened much too quickly. The sweet voice stayed in his mind and he repeated to himself over and over again that he would not die and that the man would return, but when?

Days turned into weeks and there was still no sign of the vampire and there was no sign of the Canadian getting better. He needed something, but he couldn't place his finger on it.

He stayed in the hospital under constant supervision of nurses who continuously injected him with different medication like he was some type of human experiment.

One night, while he laid awake, watching the full moon and the glistening stars through his hospital room window, he let his mind wander, feeling like the vampire wasn't going to show up from a long time and that thought saddened him.

"Did you miss me?" came a voice, making Matthew's eyes dart over to the sound.

The Canadian's heart jumped into his throat and began pounding as fast as it possibly could, making it sound like a machine gun was inside the room. He could hear the vampire let out a small chuckle and his cheeks tinted a light pink. Did he hear it too?

Suddenly, the vampire was beside his bed, those soft fingers brushing against his face. His blood was racing through his veins but overall, he felt calm.

"Come, we're leaving," the soothing voice said and before he knew it, he was in the other man's arms and being whisked away.

Before he could even protest, everything was speeding past him until it turned to just a white blur. Then, everything got dark and he realised he was outside. His mouth fell open as he looked up at the vampire before him. Blonde, wavy hair fell over his shoulders, his ocean blue eyes looking out at the town before them.

Matthew couldn't help but stare at him in adoration, his eyes trailing over his paled features. The Frenchman seemed to catch notice of this and a small chuckle escaped him, making Matthew avert his eyes.

Soon, he found himself in the darkened forest that he was told to never go into. Was this why? He had heard about vampires but only from children's books he was read to when he was young.

He was set down on the lush grass and he made no effort to move, not wanting to anger the man. He sat up a bit, feeling the gust of air sweep past him as the man made quick work of making and lighting a fire.

"What... do you want from me?" Matthew managed to ask. "I don't understand."

And that was when he watched in horror as the vampire bit into his wrist. Walking over to Matthew, he bent down beside him, offering his bleeding wrist to him. Matthew didn't understand, but the scent was hypnotic to him.

He grasped the man's arm and pulled the wrist to his dry lips. Matthew began drinking from the man's wrist like never before. He was so thirsty but not for water. The metallic taste seemed to satisfy his senses and his body visibly relaxed.

"Good boy," the man praised, his fingers running through Matthew's soft, blonde hair.

Matthew wanted to ask more questions but a tired feeling washed over him. Didn't it mean that when a vampire bit someone, they turned into one too?

"Am I going to become a vampire?" Matthew asked tiredly, his eyelids feeling like they were being weighed down by an iron bar.

He saw the nod that came from the man and a happy sigh escaped him when he felt cool lips press against his forehead, just like the nurse did when he was back in the children's hospital.

"In time," he whispered to the tired Canadian.

Not being able to keep his eyes open anymore, they slipped closed and before he fell into a deep slumber, he felt a name being whispered into his ear.

_Francis._


	2. A New Life

The Tale of The Canadian Vampire

Chapter Two

A thin line of sunlight peered through the cracks of the trees, hitting the slumbering Canadian directly on the face. A small, agitated whine followed out of his thin, pink lips. Matthew tried to grasp onto his pleasant dream that he was having, begging for it not to leave him so quickly.

The sound of a drum in the distance ripped him out of his dream world and he sat up a little too suddenly for his taste. Pressing the soft palm of his hand to his forehead as dizziness washed over him, he slowly processed what the drumming was. Looking down towards the forest floor, he grew to realise that it was not the sound of a drum but his heart pounding so wildly that was what he mistook it for.

Blonde locks swayed back and forth as Matthew looked around, trying to figure out where Francis was only to come to no conclusion. A soft sigh escaped him and he raked a hand through his disheveled hair that was bound to have picked up some grass and twigs while he was asleep. Then he remembered the hospital and the fact that he was not there anymore. He began to wonder if the hospital was in a state of pandemonium or not. A laugh bubbled up in his throat and he shook his head rapidly to get rid of that thought; like the hospital would even notice that he was gone.

Now that he thought about it, he didn't feel quite so ill anymore. Was this Francis' doing? He questioned what the other did while he was asleep, not that it really mattered. The warmth of the embers from the fire emitted a small, reddish glow, signaling that the Frenchman must have tended to it until the sun awoken.

Carefully, Matthew got to his feet, wobbling back and forth a bit at first. His vision went complete black and he heard the drumming of his heart in his ears once again. If he wasn't sick anymore then why did he feel this way?

Once the darkness from his eyes cleared, he began stumbling through the forest aimlessly, looking for the man who captured him from the safety of the hospital. He couldn't go back into town. If people were looking for him, how could he explain how he went missing in the first place?

"Oh, I just got up and walked out of the room even though I was deadly ill. Yeah right," he laughed to himself, before he looked downwards when he felt a slight breeze on his backside.

His hand instantly shot backwards and he grasped the thin material, using it to cover his rear end. Though he was sure Francis took no heed to what he was wearing, his whole face lit up as red as the embers. He took deep breaths to calm himself down, muttering words of encouragement to himself to will the blush on his face to go away.

How embarrassing it was to walk around in a small gown that didn't even cover him fully. He mentally cursed Francis for not grabbing his clothes on the way out but he knew that it wasn't his fault; he needed to make a swift escape before a nurse came in to check on him.

Matthew sat down by a stream, cupping his hands as he reached down and picked up the fresh water, bringing it to his lips to drink. His eyebrows furrowed together as he drank some more but no matter how much he gulped down, it didn't satisfy his thirst.

"Are you thirsty?" the familiar voice rang through his ears like thunder and his eyes shot over to where the source of the voice was coming from.

It took the young man a moment to remember what his name was before it clicked in his brain.

"Francis!" he cried out in a joyous glee, more than glad to see him. But the thing was, he couldn't see any of him, just the dark shadow of a figure standing among the canopy of trees.

A sound of a cheerful laugh filled the air, making the birds sing along with his voice. It made Matthew's heart warm as a sense of relief washed over him. He slowly got to his feet again and walked over to where the noise was coming from.

A pair of arms wrapped around him and he was pulled against a fabricated chest, feeling that same, strong yet gentle hand in his hair. Before he could get too caught up in the moment, he reached up and pushed away from the man who was holding him in the long-awaited embrace.

Clearing his throat, he forced himself to look up into those beautiful, ocean eyes that seemed to gleam in the darkness. Reaching backwards again, he shut the back of his gown like the curtains back at his old apartment.

The smile was prominent on the Frenchman's face as he seemed to be awaiting Matthew's response to him, letting him take his time to form the right words in his brain. All that the Canadian was able to get out was, "why did you leave me?"

Another laugh escaped him and Matthew frowned; was he mocking him? A reassuring hand pressed down on his shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze like Francis could read his mind; now that would be something. He quickly shut out any dirty thoughts that he was having, smiling a little too innocently if he could.

"I cannot go out in the sun, Matthew. Even you should know this," he said and Matthew mentally slapped himself for not thinking of this sooner. "Like the stereotypical vampires that you hear about in novels, I have to stay indoors or in the shadows when I go outside and when night falls, I can walk freely through the forest," he explained, clearing up some of the questions that the other had.

"Why don't I feel sick anymore though?" he asked curiously, cocking his head to the side as he awaited Francis' response.

"Well," the Frenchman began, bringing his arm up and pointing to his wrist.

Matthew's eyebrows furrowed as he stared at what he was pointing to, but then he saw the two small puncture wounds on the other's wrist, similar to the ones he currently had plastered to his neck.

"Oh, right. But..." he began only to get a hand pressed against his mouth. His eyes widened a bit and he tilted his head upwards slightly to look at the elder man. The smell of roses filled his senses as he breathed in the scent from his hand, slightly overwhelmed by it.

"Shh, no more questions. You'll find out soon enough," Francis hushed, pulling his hand away.

Matthew almost whimpered when the sweet scent went away; it gave him a sense of safety for some unknown reason and that was a little odd to him. Suddenly, his hand was grasped, making him tense before he allowed himself to relax, following after the Frenchman into the darkness.

"You said you were thirsty, correct?" Francis hummed, glancing back at the Canadian who couldn't see more than a couple of inches in front of his face.

"Uh, yes," he responded after he barely avoided a large tree root that was sticking out of the ground. He felt as though his glasses had been taken off and now he was as blind as a bat; just where was Francis taking him?

After what seemed like miles of stumbling around blindly and tripping over almost everything that was in his path, they came to a large clearing the forest. Though the trees blocked out the cloudless sky, the sun peered through open cracks in the bundles of leaves, leaving Matthew with some light to be able to see. Scratches and bruises dusted over his body, and Francis noticed the small pain he was in.

A hand came up, cupping the Canadian's face. He began speaking, but it sounded distant to Matthew. All he could focus on was the sharp, white fangs that poked out of his lips as he spoke. His eyes gazed upwards and he saw that Francis was smirking and that made him swallow thickly.

"Lay down, Matthew," came the simple command and Matthew did so.

The grass was cool against his damp back caused by perspiration. He looked up at Francis, watching with wide eyes as he bent down beside him. He felt a finger trace up and down his neck, no, the veins of his neck to be precise.

"I'm going to drain you of your blood to the point of death," he said bluntly, causing Matthew to go into a state of panic. Hands clamped down on his shoulders and held him down to the forest floor. "You will not die, and I will quench your thirst afterwards," he finished with a promise.

Matthew could only nod in response, scared to death now. He shut his eyes tightly when he felt the warmth of Francis' breath cascade down his neck, making him shiver. His shaking hands were gripping tightly on the grass below, bracing himself for the pain.

A pair of fangs sank deep into the man's neck, making him bite down on his lip to hold back any whimpers of pain. He could feel the blood flowing out of him and seeping into Francis' body.

"Keep your eyes wide, Matthew," Francis' lips moved against his neck, making all the hair rise on the Canadian's body.

Matthew opened his eyes wide as they could go, watching the leaves that slowly drifted down from the thick branches of the trees. He wanted to ask Francis how much more he had to take, but he didn't dare to. He felt like he couldn't speak or even move for that matter.

After what felt like hours, the Frenchman pulled away, his pink tongue poking out to sweep across his bloodstained lips. He cooed words of encouragement to Matthew but Matthew felt like he was the darkness, seeing no light in sight.

Then, a faint glow came from the shadows that seemed to be strangling him. His arm reached out, trying to grasp hold of that faint light, needing it more than anything.

As he had this inner war with himself to keep alive, Francis bit down on his wrist again, pressing it to Matthew's lips. The human fluid he had taken from Matthew had been converted to something that the Canadian needed to survive; vampire blood.

As Matthew gulped down everything that Francis had to offer, the light inside of him seemed to grow larger, scaring off any of the darkness. His hand reached up and grasped Francis' hand, pressing it closer to his cool lips.

All too soon, the arm was pulled away from him and he eagerly licked his lips, trying to get anymore of that sweet blood that was left. As he looked around, his eyes grew large once more. Not only could he hear the thumping of his heart, but another one at that. Slowly turning his head, his mouth dropped open when he realised that he could hear Francis' heart pounding in sync with his own.

He carefully looked around the forest, seeing everything in a new light. The birds chirping and singing to one another in the distance was so clear, along with the howling of the wolves as they stalked after their prey. The sunlight through the trees almost burned his eyes, being much brighter than it had been before.

The next thing he knew, he was being lifted and carried back into the shadows of the forest, his mind awestruck from being able to see clearly this time, almost like he was carrying a flashlight around with him.

"I hope you don't mind beginning your life anew as a vampire, Matthew. But you still have a long way to go," he warned.

As his mind processed this, Matthew only smirked in return, saying a simple sentence. "Bring it on."


	3. The Most Awesome Vampire in the World

The Tale of the Canadian Vampire

Chapter Three

Francis carried Matthew to an abandoned shack out in the middle of nowhere. A small stream -probably the one Matthew had drank from before- went silently past the broken down home. Inside, was a rather large bed that took up more of the space, surprising Matthew.

"Don't you-,"

"Sleep in coffins? Really Matthew?" Francis asked, looking down at the man who was now smiling sheepishly.

"Well, I don't know. You haven't really told me about vampires, and if I'm to become one it would be nice to know," he retorted with a small huff, crossing his arms against his chest.

"I'll tell you everything you want to know, but tonight," he said, and before Matthew could protest, a finger was pressed against his lips. "I hope you don't mind sharing a bed, I didn't have time to drag another bed out here. Or a coffin if you would prefer," came the snickered reply, and as a response, Matthew lightly smacked Francis in the chest, earning him a large pout from the Frenchman.

Francis set Matthew down on the bed as if he was as delicate as a figurine, like the Canadian was his most prized possession. Matthew had a light blush coating his cheeks, having never slept beside anyone else in a bed, especially not a vampire. Nonetheless, he slipped under the covers that reeked of decay.

Soon enough, he found himself being pulled back against the same strong chest, finding the vampire's grip a lot stronger than his own. That was to be expected though since he assumed that vampires had superhuman strength, speed and hearing because he was experiencing all of those things as he underwent his vampire turning.

He found his eyes fluttering closed as the sweet scent of roses fell over him, beginning to lull him into a deep slumber. There was no windows in the shack, so it was pitch black, giving Matthew a huge sense of relief; he honestly felt safe with Francis, knowing that he wouldn't hurt him.

When Matthew awoke, he could hear the crickets chirping rather loudly outside, signaling that it was nightfall. Slowly getting to his feet, he paused, looking around for a certain vampire. He sighed, running a hand through his hair when he saw no one inside of the shack lurking in the shadows. _Typical Francis. _

His body suddenly staggered backwards a shot from a rifle rang in his ears, making him trip over a uprooted wooden plank in the floor. His head slammed against the cold floor but yet as he waited for the pain to come, none did.

He reached back to grope under the coat of messy hair and he was amazed to feel that no blood was drawn from him. He remembered why he fell in the first place and he staid absolutely still. The gunshot was so close, and yet, he heard no footsteps approaching the rotten old wood that kept him separated from what was happening out in the moonlit forest.

Matthew carefully got up, making his way towards the door. He wished that there was windows since it would make it easier to peer out of and see if there was any harm about. He opened the door a crack, not daring to open it anymore. His lilac orbs looked out and he was horrified at the sight in front of him.

His knees felt weak and he ripped his eyes away, slamming the door loud enough to alert anything that was nearby. He sank down to the floor, keeping his back pressed tightly against the door to keep out any unwanted predators.

An electric shock ran through him as the door began shaking, the voice from outside barely audible. His face was pale, paler than usual like he had just seen a ghost, and he felt like he was going to empty all of the contents in his stomach at any moment.

"Matthew!" Francis yelled, his hands slamming against the door repeatedly like Matthew was keeping something hostage that Francis needed to keep himself alive.

Matthew could hear the agitation in his voice and he knew what was going to happen next. He scrambled to his feet and he dove under the bed for cover as the old, wooden door shattered to pieces like it was a piece of glass

The light from the moonlight streamed into the room, letting the shadows dance around in the far corners in fear of being drowned out by the moon. The poor Canadian was trembling under the safety of the wooden bed frame with his face buried deep into his arms.

"Come here," came a soothing voice and Matthew, being as stubborn as he was at times, shook his head. "Well, you asked for it then."

Before the young male could even asked, he was being dragged away from the shadows and out into the moonlight.

His feet kicked hard, like a child having a temper tantrum as he tried to impale his foot on a joint that would send the Frenchman to the ground in a whimper of pain. He was placed in front of what had caused the gunshot in the first place, seeing the body below him gasping for air. The man's eyes were distant, not focused on anything. Lungs go first, the eyes go last, that's what he had read in a variety of different books, most of them about dramatic adventures involving suffering and murder. The man's pupils were dulling as the life spilled out of the large wound on his neck, his face a ghostly white.

Matthew stayed silent, though he looked away from the hunter who was bleeding to death. He didn't deserve to die; Matthew was sure he had a wife and children at home, awaiting his return home with fresh meat for dinner. What would happen when their father never returned home?

"You monster!" the Canadian yelled before he could stop himself. He didn't want to become something that killed an innocent being just for the sake of survive. Why couldn't Francis just feed off of animals instead to quench his blood thirst?

Ignoring the pained expression plastered on the Frenchman's face, Matthew stood and ran off with the wind, leaving nothing but a cloud of dust in his path. He ran a lot faster than he would ever expect to but it was all in turning, right? That's what he assumed at least.

The farther he ran, the more he started to think, beginning to regret his words, but he was still angered at the vampire for his acts. Then again, he hadn't heard the whole story, but what more did he need than to see a hunter's soul slowly leaving the corpse, never to be seen again?

He shuddered at the thought as he tried not to recall the disturbing memory of the dying man, gasping for air like a fish out of water. That was the last thing he wanted to think about, and now that he was by himself, he had no clue what to do; he didn't know the forest or what it had to offer to him to quench his thirst.

He knew he needed Francis for him to lead him through becoming a vampire and show him the ropes as he heard some nurses refer to it as when he was back in the hospital.

Loud footfalls fell onto the mossy forest floor as the Canadian darted away, cursing multiple times to himself for his stupid act. He felt almost delusional, his blood thirst overpowering him like never before. The first thing he could sight of was a bear cub, which seemed easy enough. As he approached his target, he ran a tongue over his canine teeth that were starting to sharpen but they looked nothing like vampire fangs yet. As he grabbed hold of the cub with massive force, it let out the loudest cry he had ever heard, making his head spin. The next thing he saw was a large, furious mother grizzly bear, her large paw swinging like a bat at him, trying to knock Matthew off of his feet for an easier kill.

Matthew hightailed it out of there like a deer sprinting away from a hunter, wanting, no needing another day to live. He wasn't sure how or if vampires even died, but he didn't want to find out, not this way anyway.

He hadn't seen the French vampire since he had called him a monster and now the guilt was beginning to eat away and him, his mind calling him nasty names that made him feel even worse about what he had done. Francis didn't deserve that and he was going to apologize once he found him and if he got away from the angry grizzly that was hot on his heels.

As he was about to leap over a fallen log that had a variety of insects crawling among it, a blur came out of the bushes and slammed him down into the ground with full force. A hand was pressed tightly to his mouth so no noise could escape him and when he looked up, a pair of ruby red eyes were staring him down, making him shrink down into the dirt even more. The creature's hair shined under the beams of moonlight, his snowy hair falling gracefully around his head.

He could hear the large, heavy paws from the bear get softer and softer as she disappeared into the night and Matthew prayed he would never see her again. When the hand was pulled away from his mouth, he pushed the man away, his nose scrunching up in distaste.

"Your hands taste terrible!" Matthew said in a fit as he turned his head to spit into the bush.

An odd laugh, definitely inhuman escaped the man, scaring off most of the birds in the area as they took flight, circling around the starry sky and cawing warning to one another to watch out for the maniac on the ground.

"Tch, you get use to it after awhile," came the simple reply and Matthew frowned; he didn't want to have someone's dirt covered hand pressed against his mouth ever again. "Anyways, who the hell are you? I've never seen you around before," he said, leaning much too close for the Canadian's taste.

Out of response, he leaned back, not pleased with the albino's behaviour or his manners. "My name's Matthew," he said simply. As the man began blabbering about something about being awesome, he noticed the large fangs that prodded at his bottom lip every time he spoke. "You're a vampire!" he exclaimed after a moment.

"Well, no shit I'm a vampire. I was just telling you that," came the replied huff. "I was saying that my name's Gilbert and I'm the most awesome vampire in the land," he said proudly, puffing out his chest to make himself look bigger than he truly was.

If he was a vampire, then maybe he would know of Francis? Well, there was no harm in asking. And when he did, another strange laugh escaped Gilbert, making Matthew feel like his ears were bleeding at the annoying laugh. Was it truly necessary?

"_Ja, _he's part of the awesome trio than I made up!" said the albino, springing to his feet as he struck a pose like a superhero. "Gilbert, Francis and Antonio, sexiest vampires the world has ever seen!" he yelled before he snickered.

"So, where is Francis?" he asked, trying to get some sort of help to find the man who had turned him into a vampire in the first place.

A puzzled looked crossed Gilbert's face and he shrugged. "No idea."

Matthew ran a hand down his face as he got up, letting out an agitated sigh. This vampire was of no help, but his company was nice. "Oh, thank you for saving me from the bear. I'm really thirsty," he admitted, rubbing the back of his head.

"You need food? Well, come with me and I'll try to make you as awesome as I," he said, walking out of the bush and back onto the dirt path made for hunters to easily find their way around the forest.

As they were walking, Gilbert was telling Matthew about how awesome he truly was, when they saw a large buck run past, and they both paused, staring at each other, exchanging no words between them but they had the same objective; kill.

They took off after the buck with Matthew lagging behind a little but due to not being a fully fledged vampire yet, but he would be soon. He followed a trail of blood and when he finally caught up to Gilbert, he paused, seeing the buck laying on the ground, his eyes closed like he was in a peaceful slumber. Around his neck was the shadowed form of a familiar figure and beside him stood Gilbert, grinning proudly like he just won the lottery.

"Found him!" the Prussian exclaimed, throwing his arms in the air in success as a large grin plastered across his face.

Matthew's eyes saddened as he walked over to the two vampires, putting a smile on his face as he took a deep breath; he had a lot of apologising to do.


	4. Trouble Lurks Around Every Tree

The Tale of the Canadian Vampire

Chapter Four

Matthew walked up to Francis who was currently licking the deer's blood from his lips, his worn, dirty running shoes getting under him as he got up, brushing any remnants of dirt off of his royal purple shirt, giving him that elegant aura that young women would kill to have. Or so Matthew thought.

"I..," he began only to be cut off by Francis sweeping him over to his cool body.

Matthew was surprised to say the least, not expecting the French vampire to be so forgiving when he hadn't even apologised to him; now that was a first. However, the next thing he truly didn't expect. His body was dipped towards the ground on an angle, like they were in some sort of imaginary dance, his mouth pressed against the neck he had drawn blood from twice before. His arms were dangling helplessly for a moment, briefly brushing against the ground before he came to his senses and wrapped his arms tightly around the broad shoulders, his soft hand tangling in the silky hair that was glistening under the stars, his blonde locks forming a sort of halo around his head.

Somehow, Matthew's teeth seemed to grow longer at the smell of the sweet, French blood coursing through Francis' neck. He soon sunk his teeth into the soft, fleshy surface, letting his teeth penetrate deep enough for him to drink and quench his thirst.

A small, surprising moan caught the Canadian off guard and he pulled away, blinking a couple times. Francis looked down at him and he smirked before he began mouthing something that Matthew couldn't hear and no matter how much he strained to hear what he was saying, it was all an incoherent mixture of words.

"Matthew!" a distant voice yelled and he looked around.

When he looked up at Francis, he was gone and Matthew was laying on the cold, hard ground with no one in sight. The voice continued to yell at him before his eyes shot open, heavy breaths coming from him as he looked around. Francis was bent beside him now and Gilbert could be heard laughing behind him.

"You seemed to have fainted due to the lack of blood. Are you alright? You were eating the grass." Francis said calmly, and Matthew could see that he was trying his hardest to not laugh at him like the albino vampire currently was.

A dark, crimson blush swept across his face and he reached up to cover his cheeks as he nodded his head. "Oui, I'm fine, just hungry," he said, feeling almost dizzy from the lack of blood running through him.

"Ah," came the small reply as Francis helped Matthew to his feet and he pulled him into the bushes, calling at Gilbert to cease his laughter for a moment and hide. The Prussian obeyed though he didn't seem to like it and they all hid in a bush together.

It took a long time for something to happen but another deer passed by, a small doe that held its front leg high in the air to keep it from dragging on the rough, patchy ground.

"Go now and take the deer," Francis urged, giving Matthew a gentle push.

Matthew knew that he would have to learn how to do things on his own and learn by experience so that's exactly what he did.

Slowly, he crept out of the bush, aware of the eyes watching his every move. He took a small breath, lurking in the shadows so the deer couldn't detect him. He crouched down, as still as a statue. Soon enough, the door came closer to him and that's when he made his attack. He leapt out of the darkness and latched onto the doe's neck. She stumbled due to her broken leg and fell flat on the ground.

Matthew's fangs weren't fully grown as they were in his dream so he had to rip the flesh to get at the succulent blood that was coursing through her veins. Once he latched on and began sucking, he went into a sort of daze, wanting more and more.

His heart began to beat in sync with the elegant creature's, feeling it begin to slow. He zoned into his shoulders being shaken and he was pulled from his animalistic haze, hearing what Francis was yelling to him.

"Let go, Matthew! The doe will drag you down to death with it if you continue to drink! It's on the brink of death and if you take another drop of blood from it, you will kill yourself in the process!" he warned, before he ripped the Canadian off of the doe and pinned him to the ground.

Gilbert leapt forward and held down the young vampire's legs, not allowing him to kick and struggle. Francis and Gilbert had been through the process of changing and they knew that it was a tough and long journey to be able to control themselves when gulping down the sweet nectar that ran through animal's veins.

Slowly, Matthew seemed to calm down and they released him from his confines. Francis ran a reassuring hand through his hair, cooing sweet words of nothing to him.

"You will not have to drink for another day. Your body is now satisfied and you're one step closer to becoming a fully fledged vampire like us," he said, ruffling the Canadian's hair.

Suddenly, a shot rang out in the forest and Matthew's body tensed. "Another hunter?' he asked, trying to sit up only to be pushed back down.

Matthew knew that he couldn't feel fear, something that Gilbert had told him before but the look on Francis' fear showed terror and that made Matthew start to rethink things and well, want to get the hell out of there. He was being held down by Francis so he knew some good had to come of it.

"Sleep, Matthew," Francis commanded, his voice a voiced sounding strained and panicked.

He nodded his head and he closed his eyes, but he couldn't sleep with his heart pounding like it was. Were they going to die? No, he didn't even know if he could but now was not the time for questions.

He pretended to sleep as the footsteps got louder, the trees quaking under the massive feet that approached. A loud, inhuman call rang out from the forest and it made the Canadian's ears feel like they were about to bleed. He didn't notice that he was trembling until he felt a hand on his shoulder.

He slowly cracked open his eye and he looked over to the one who called himself awesome. His face was whiter than snow, like he saw a ghost or something. Why weren't they running? He wanted to scream at them and tell them to hide.

Was he dreaming again? Surely he was. He shut his eyes tightly and counted to ten, this would all be over soon and he would wake up on the fluffy mattress, enveloped in a cool hug by the French vampire. Oh, how he yearned for that.

The footsteps stopped coming and when he opened his eyes again, Francis and Gilbert was gone and his mouth dropped open. He sat up and he gulped at the large pair of glowing, golden eyes staring him down from the shadows.

The creature took one large step into the clearing, it's eyes turning to the same shade as Gilbert's. Matthew wanted to run, but he was frozen in his place. The creature took graceful steps over, something that seemed impossible for how large it was.

It was a dark black creature, it's wings tucked in behind it's back. Its aura dripped with darkness and evil, it's massive form supporting two giant legs underneath of it that was scaly and looked rough to the touch.

It walked closer and grabbed Matthew by the neck, dragging him up into the thin air. His eyes widened but he still felt no fear. He was sure the creature still had some type of paralysis power that it used against him, shocking him into place. He gulped softly, it's large mouth opening, giving him a sneak peak at the razor sharp teeth there poked up from its gums.

A laugh suddenly escaped it and Matthew's eyes began to water at its rancid breath. A grin crossed its face and it spread out its large wings, taking to the air.

"Seems your little friends left you behind," it said, its voice deep and filled with hatred. "It doesn't matter, you'll be dead soon."

Matthew's eyes watered more, but not from its breath. So vampires could die, but he wasn't technically one yet; did the creature of the night know this? He was ripped from his thoughts as he slipped out of the beast's hand like he was a stick of butter, plummeting towards the earth below.

A ear shattering screech left its mouth and he shut his eyes tightly, repeating to himself that he was going to be fine. His mind shut down, making him black out from the speed he was going at.

Lilac orbs fluttered open, feeling an uncomfortable source of light hitting the side of his face, trying to warm up his pale skin. His hand lurched forward, his broken nails, digging into the dirt. He pulled himself out of the sun and he rolled onto his back, looking around.

He tilted his head upwards and his eyes widened at the sight. He wasn't dead, he was in a jail cell! The metal bars were thick, trapping him inside the claustrophobic room. He took deep breaths, wanting to scream for help.

The floor trembled underneath of him and he pushed his acing ankles into the ground, jetting himself backwards until his back hit the wooden wall that was keeping him caged in, separating him from the outside world.

"Well, well, looks like someone finally decided to wake up," a voice rang out.

He tilted his head up and saw a human in front of him. He got up and stumbled over to the bars, wrapping his thin hands around them. "Please let me out of here," he begged, giving the man pleading eyes.

A laugh echoed from the walls and a dark light radiated from the man, making Matthew's eyes grow huge as he watched the form in front of him completely change to something else.

"Stupid human, you'll never understand. Or shall I say, vampire," the words were spat out at him.

He craned his neck upwards, seeing the same creature as before. This was no ordinary creature though, "you're a shapeshifter," Matthew whispered, letting the words escape before he could stop them.

Oh no, then he remembered how he called Francis a monster for killing something that looked like a hunter. He didn't kill a hunter, it was a shapeshifter, and Matthew didn't give him time to explain that.

He mentally cursed himself, angered that he didn't even give Francis a chance to try and explain himself. '_What a selfish man I am," _he thought to himself, heaving an inward sigh.

Another laugh boomed from the shape shifter and it grinned, it's rotten and decayed teeth emitting a heinous odor. This time, Matthew plugged his nose, making the beast furious. It suddenly appeared in front of him, a gigantic hand wrapping tightly around his neck, the deadly claws sinking into his pale flesh.

"It seems you have a death wish," it growled, tossing Matthew against the wall like he was something that needed to disappear from the world.

He fell to the dirt floor, inhaling far too much of it to be healthy. He began hacking, trying to expel it from his lungs. The creature left him in the dust and dirt, letting him try to cope with the loneliness.

Something told Matthew that he was not going to be set free soon and if he was, he would be dead.


End file.
